I bend to the eyepiece. Stars scattered across the darkening sky, more than I've ever seen from a city.
“See that bright one?” His breath is warm against my ear. “Just above the horizon.”
I nod, lost in it.
Behind me, rustling.
“Emma.”
I turn.
Kai is on one knee.
A ring box open in his hands. The diamond catches starlight, but it's the band that stops me. Tiny diamonds scattered across the gold like distant stars. The metal swirling faintly like trails of a constellation.
“Kai...” My voice breaks.
His jaw is tight. Fingers grip the box a fraction too hard.
He's nervous. Kaiden Rhodes, who stared down his father's empire, isnervous. For me.
“This ring...” he starts, and his voice catches. Clears his throat.
“I had a speech.” A rough exhale. “I'm looking at you, and I can't remember a single word of it.”
My hand presses against my chest. I feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.
He looks down at the ring, then back up. His eyes are glassy.
“My parents' marriage was a contract. A transaction with terms and clauses and exit strategies.” He swallows. “I grew up thinking that's what it was. That love was just a nicer word for leverage.”
His voice drops.
“Then you walked into my life and blew that apart.”
A tear slides down my cheek.
His grip tightens on the box. “You didn't try to fix me. You just stayed. Even when I made it hard. You showed me what itlooks like when someone chooses you. Not for what you have. Not for what you can do. Just you.”
His breath shakes, but his eyes are clear. Deep indigo set on my face.
“I want to choose you back. Every morning. For the rest of my life.”
I'm crying. Properly. Not the pretty kind.
“Will you marry me?”
I nod. Can't speak. Nod harder.
“Yes.” It comes out broken and fierce. “Yes, Kai.”
His whole body exhales. He barely gets the ring on my finger before I pull him up, arms around his neck, mouth on his.
The kiss is messy and impatient, tasting of salt and champagne. My hands fist the front of his shirt. His fingers curl into my hair. His heartbeat slams against my chest.
We break apart. Breathless. Grinning like idiots.
I laugh, wipe my eyes. “For someone who forgot his speech, that was pretty good.”
